


Little battle wounds

by salytierra (octavaluna)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Brothers Germany & Prussia (Hetalia), Family Feels, Fluff, Franco-Prussian War, Gen, Historical Hetalia, Historical References, Human & Country Names Used, aka: the author tries her best at writing for the first time in years a scene not involving spain, aphgenficexchange2016, holiday fic, the author brutally abuses footnotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 18:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9001903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octavaluna/pseuds/salytierra
Summary: After the Battle of Hallue, Ludwig tries to patch up his brother's wounds. However, as the little shit that he is, Prussia is determined to make it complicated.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stelra_Etnae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stelra_Etnae/gifts).



> This is my participation in the aphgenficexchange secter santa. My giftee requested, among other things, brotherly Prussia and Germany and that’s what she got ♥ (well, she also asked for historical AU, but idk how to write those so this is just Historical, I hope it’s alright.) 
> 
> I’m also uploading this two days earlier because I wanted to match the dates. This story takes place one day after the Battle of Hallue, on the 25th of December 1870. Exactly 146 years ago.

 

 

 

“Stay quiet!” Ludwig chastised his brother, trying to make Prussia’s arm fall off by repeatedly patting it with a cloth soaked in schnapps.

“It fucking burns!” Gilbert whined “Alcohol is for the belly, not for washing. [[1](%E2%80%9C#note1%E2%80%9D)]

“I’m not washing you.”

“No, you are torturing me, boy. That’s what you are doing.”

Ludwig sighed the sigh of the long-suffering, leaving the antiseptic aside to take a clean roll of bandages and extend them on the table. He raised an eyebrow and Gilbert obeyed after a few seconds, muttering under his breath something about not deserving that. He offered his arm so Ludwig could start bandaging it.

“You’re being careless.” He pointed out, looking down at his work rather than at Gilbert’s face. “I’d rather not be patching you up on Christmas day. Specially because you should have received proper medical attention yesterday. Instead of that you’ve been sauntering around with a bullet in your arm.”

“The medics were busy, and I was going to do it eventually. It’s not like I haven’t been managing on my own all my life, _mom_.” Gilbert pursed his lips, making a half-hearted attempt at changing his arm’s position, but Ludwig grabbed it tighter, making Prussia flinch from the unexpected jolt of pain.

“What I mean, is that I don’t like that you got hurt again.”

Gilbert chuckled, using his free hand to pat the kid’s head. “Why? It was worth it. I totally kicked that bastard’s France’s pompous ass! Again.”

“That’s not what they are saying out there. This campaign might as well have been a loss. We didn’t gain any decisive advantage and nearly a thousand were killed.  The French are claiming victory.”

Gilbert scoffed at him. “So what? This is not a big setback. I’ve left him lying in the dirt in almost every other battle we fought. He has nothing to do against our strength. Specially now that those lazy Bavarians got their asses in position.”

“Brother-” Ludwig started to complain, raising his head. But he was interrupted by Gilbert leaning in and placing a kiss on his forehead.

“This war might as well be already won, kiddo. Trust your elder brother and don’t worry your little head about it.”

“I’m not a baby! Stop treating me like one!” Ludwig complained loudly, drawing away with an embarrassed flush on his cheeks. Gilbert grinned.

“I know. You are turning into a man too fast though. Allow the old, sentimental me this small favour for a few more days, at least. I’ll get a puppy afterwards, or something.”

“What do you mean?” Ludwig frowned. But Gilbert just shrugged it off.

“Well, that’s a surprise. I have something ready for you. Call it a new year’s present if you may.[[2](%E2%80%9C#note2%E2%80%9D)]

“You know I hate surprises.” Ludwig sighed. “And who gives New Year’s presents anyway? At least you are alive and not bleeding out in a trench somewhere. That’s enough of a present for me.” He finished tying up the bandages at that, giving the laces one last tug to make sure they were properly secured.

As much as he was tempted to make some sort of crude joke to lighten up his little brother’s pensive mood, Gilbert bit his tongue. That kid was way too serious for the age he pretended to be, too mature for his real age as well. He was ready, Gilbert thought, to carry more responsibility on his shoulders. The world was changing again, crawling out of the standstill that it fell into after the victory over Napoleon. They needed not only to keep up with the times, but to get ahead of them. The German Confederation was a fragile concept, and that made Ludwig fragile too. He needed to be strong enough to withstand when the winds started to pick up again. The Ottoman Empire was stuck in a decadent freefall. Spain, currently the loose cannon of Europe, stood on the edge of a cliff made of sand.[[3](%E2%80%9C#note3%E2%80%9D)] And the giant in the East, Russia, was not somebody Gilbert would trust to keep his greedy tentacles off an easy prey, if the opportunity arose.[[4](%E2%80%9C#note4%E2%80%9D)] 

Prussia watched as Ludwig gathered the utensils he used to treat his wounds and stood up, carrying them to be cleaned up and put away. His fingers quickly became red from the gelid water, but he paid it no mind.

“We can have lunch later.” He said, oblivious to his brother’s train of thought. “Something festive, to celebrate the birth of Christ, before the evening Service.”

He turned around, almost dropping the basin in his hands as he found Gilbert standing right in front of him.

“Is there something wrong, brother? Does the bandage bother you?”

“Nothing, just thinking…” Gilbert tilted his head, studying Ludwig’s confused expression, then brought his hand to the boy’s nape, squeezing it lightly and looking him straight in the eyes. “You know that everything I do, I do it for you, right?”

“I…” Ludwig nodded slightly, looking away. “I wish you didn’t. I can stand up for myself, you know?”

Gilbert smiled, open affection shining in his eyes as the boy met his gaze again. “I don’t doubt that for a second, believe me. You are destined for greatness, kiddo. One day, you’ll lead the world. And I will be the one who will prepare the road for you. I will give you this planet, if I have to, and leave it to you to keep it from slipping away from your fingers. But for as long as I live, be sure that I’ll stand by your side.”

Tugging on his hold, he brought Ludwig’s forehead on his own shoulder, hugging him tight despite the pain in his arm. It felt great to have at least one thing certain in his life, to have someone besides himself to fight for. To care about someone more than he cared about himself.

Ludwig’s hands balled up a couple of times, until he surrendered finally, bringing his hands up to fist into Gilbert’s shirt.

Prussia hummed into his charge’s hair. “I will win this war for you, or we will win it together.” He swore.

“I don’t know how.” Ludwig mumbled, sounding for the first time in decades like the young boy that he actually was.

“Don’t worry.” Gilbert grinned “I’ll teach you.”

Whatever the near or distant future might hold, there was nothing that would ever be able to keep them apart. Right?

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> 2 Gilbert twists the words of Joseph Smith, whom alluded to the use of alcohol as an antiseptic in 1833. In the section 89 of the Doctrine of the Covenants, the verse 7 states “And, again, strong drinks are not for the belly, but for the washing of your bodies.”  [ [return to text](%E2%80%9C#return1%E2%80%9D) ]
> 
> 218 January 1871 – Proclamation of the United German Empire under the rule of the King of Prussia. [ [return to text](%E2%80%9C#return2%E2%80%9D) ]
> 
> 3 This wouldn’t be a story by ME™ if I didn’t manage to sneak in my baby homeland somehow. Although to be fair, Spain holding a revolution that kicked out the Bourbons and randomly offering the vacant crown to a relative of the King of Prussia was one of the causes that led to the Franco-Prussian war. Since France feared that a dynastic union between the chaotic, unstable and unpredictable Spain and a more-level headed, ambitious Prussia would destabilise the balance of the continent and leave him surrounded from all flanks, they opposed to it on the European Concert. Spain moved on to crowning Amadeus of Savoy, but the Prussians were more than pissed with France about the lost opportunity.  [ [return to text](%E2%80%9C#return3%E2%80%9D) ]
> 
> 4 “Russia’s tentacles” is an obvious reference to this map that would be published some years later. Although they were pretty civil by then, and Russia kept to himself during the F-P war, their history was unstable enough that I imagine Prussia would want a good political relationship with Ivan but wouldn’t trust him as far as he could throw him. _“The secret of politics? Make a good treaty with Russia.” - Otto von Bismarck._ [ [return to text](%E2%80%9C#return3%E2%80%9D) ]  
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
> I'd have made it waaaay longer, but unfortunately I didn’t have much time to do research due to uni and the holidays. Huge thanks to [Kate_Marley](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_marley) for brainstorming with me and to [germanbrothers](http://archiveofourown.org/users/germanbrothers/pseuds/germanbrothers) for throwing her headcanons at me until I could get a feel of their relationship in that point in history. 
> 
> The header is an edited detail from [this painting](http://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/436188) of the Franco-Prussian War.


End file.
